Tag: brad pitt

In 1988, the movie releases of the day were something of a mixed bag. From titles like Killer Klowns from Outer Space to Who Framed Roger Rabbit, it was an “anything goes” sort of year for film. Maybe that’s why Beetlejuice managed to “get past the censors,” so to speak. Released on March 30, 1988, it was hardly expected to be the commercial success that it was, raking in seventy-five million dollars on a fifteen-million-dollar budget. Unsurprisingly, getting it made was something of an uphill battle, with one executive at Universal telling Beetlejuice’s co-writer and eventual co-producer Larry Wilson that trying to put it into production was a waste of time. Wilson, in fact, recalled the unnamed person’s naysaying as follows: “‘This piece of weirdness, this is what you’re going to go out into the world with? You’re developing into a very good executive. You’ve got great taste in material. Why are you going to squander all that for this piece of shit’ was basically what he was saying.”

Soon after, the Beetlejuice script was sold to the Geffen Company (because, needless to say, gays have taste). Perhaps because, at that time, it had made something of a name for itself in the genre of “weird,” “off-kilter” movies like After Hours and Little Shop of Horrors. Cutting to 2024, not only is the Geffen Company no longer around (it became defunct in 1998), but all of its content (save for Beavis and Butt-Head Do America and maybe Joe’s Apartment) now belongs to Warner Bros., which Geffen had originally distributed its films through. Perhaps that’s part of why Beetlejuice Beetlejuice has a noticeably different tone that has less to do with “the current climate” and more to do with being under the thumb of a major corporate juggernaut.

And, talking of the current climate in film, it’s obviously vastly different from the abovementioned mixed bag/almost anything goes vibe of 1988. Indeed, 2024 has been an especially marked year for remakes, reboots and various forms of sequels—including Twisters, Deadpool & Wolverine, Alien: Romulus and The Crow. All of which is to say that, as most already knew, Hollywood is notorious for playing it safe. In other words, the suits controlling the purse strings rarely, if ever, take a gamble on anything that isn’t “existing IP” that already has a built-in audience. Which is the category that, “kooky” or not, Beetlejuice definitely falls into—making it right at home among the movie release climate of 2024.

That said, the obvious tonal shift of the sequel is a direct result of not just the “corporate-ification” of the movie thanks to Warner Bros. being entirely at the helm (complete with cross-promotional products like the Fabergé x Beetlejuice Beetlejuice® fine jewelry collection and the Limited-Edition Fanta Haunted Apple x Beetlejuice Beetlejuice® drinks), but the corporate-ification of all aspects of the movie industry in general. Even when it comes to what would have once been deemed more “indie” fare (which usually tended to be a euphemism for “offbeat” [a.k.a. unclassifiable by Hollywood executives]). Tim Burton’s own film evolution provides no better example of that, showing a stronger predilection for corporate-ifying his now “signature style” over the years (see: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Alice in Wonderland, Dark Shadows and Dumbo). In branching out to TV (for the first full-blown time) with Wednesday, Burton also revealed his increasing inclination toward “softcore gloom,” a byproduct, perhaps, of too many years working with major studio backing. And yes, collaborating with Jenna Ortega on the series led to her being “thought of” for a major part in the sequel.

In it, Ortega plays Astrid Deetz, daughter to Lydia (Winona Ryder), who has herself gone totally corporate by hosting a sham-y supernatural reality show called Ghost House. Granted, Lydia can actually communicate with the dead—as her rapport with Adam (Alec Baldwin) and Barbara Maitland (Geena Davis) showed audiences back in ‘88. Unfortunately for Astrid, however, Lydia has never been able to wield her gift for the purpose of seeing Richard (Santiago Cabrera), Astrid’s father whose cause of death was a boat accident in South America. And no, his body was never recovered (which seems like it might a detail that’s brought back later, but it isn’t).

Lydia and Richard had already divorced before his death, which speaks more to Ryder’s original vision for the character in a sequel: “I never thought about Lydia ever being a mom. I thought she would just be this spinster by choice in that attic…” Turns out, corporate-ification makes such a thought an impossibility, with Ryder also adding, “…but I think that’s where the incredible Jenna Ortega comes in. She answered a ton of those questions, and it felt so right.” Some might even say it “felt so right” that it was the true reason “destiny” made it take this long to put together a sequel—well, that, and “destiny” also needed to align Monica Bellucci romantically with Burton to give her a part that, once upon a time, probably would have gone to Helena Bonham Carter. (Side note: the role is an undeniable aesthetic nod to Sally in The Nightmare Before Christmas.)

In any case, some might like to see Lydia and Astrid as a “macabre” version of Lorelai and Rory Gilmore, with their relationship mirroring the latter’s more during their estrangement in season six—until they finally get close once Astrid realizes her mother’s medium abilities are the real deal. Before that pivotal moment though, Astrid’s initial resentment-filled dynamic with Lydia is established via the plot construct of an important funeral. Thus, her rage toward her “Alleged Mother” is exhibited in all its complex glory when screenwriting duo Alfred Gough and Miles Millar bring them together against Astrid’s will for the funeral of Lydia’s father/Astrid’s grandfather, Charles Deetz (Jeffrey Jones, who might as well have “died” in real life after being cancelled for child pornography/sex offender charges). And yes, as some have accurately pointed out, Charles a.k.a. Jones enjoys way too much screen time for someone that’s not actually in it—in addition to pointing out that having a children’s choir sing “Day-O” at the funeral of an IRL sex offender is a bit…ill-advised. (On the plus side, however, his death allows Catherine O’Hara many opportunities to shine as Delia Deetz.)

What’s more, while Burton has also claimed that the Maitlands aren’t featured in the story because they’ve “moved on,” the fairer assumption (apart from Davis admitting, “Our characters were stuck the way they looked when they died forever, so it’s been a while, it’s been a minute”) is that Baldwin isn’t without his own controversies of late (*cough cough* killing someone). And, if corporate-ification is capable of anything, it’s steering clear of any controversies that might prompt a dip in sales. Except no one seemed to consider the potential of Brad Pitt’s inevitably fledgling reputation in the wake of Angelina Jolie’s lawsuit claiming the actor has a “history of physical abuse.” Nonetheless, he serves as a producer on the project, which, whether intentional or not, found him working with Jennifer Aniston’s other ex, Justin Theroux (who plays Lydia’s annoying user of a fiancé, Rory).

Elsewhere, the addition of Willem Dafoe to the cast as Wolf Jackson—a B-rate actor who died while playing a detective, therefore also acts as one in the afterlife—feels a bit overstuffed and out of place, contributing to some of the issues with being able to effectively service all the storylines and characters (especially Bellucci’s Delores) without making everything feel somewhat rushed at the conclusion. Granted, there is at least a satisfying-to-OG-fans wedding ceremony between Lydia and Beetlejuice reserved for Act Three (during which Lydia, in her “updated” [read: post-woke] state, makes a joke that comments on their unsettling age gap—and just in time for age gap autumn, too).

But even during these moments that cater to the original fanbase, the shift in tone from Beetlejuice when it was a “low-budget,” underdog affair is night and day when compared to the over-the-top, trying-as-hard-as-possible-for-laughs posturing of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. And don’t even get one started on the hooey final scene that leads to coming across as a totally non sequitur nod to A Nightmare on Elm Street. Even so, there are worse “bad dreams” than this sequel, and many others have failed miserably in trying to achieve a follow-up to such a beloved movie (see: Speed 2: Cruise Control or Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps). Besides, it’s almost impossible to make a sequel better than the original (save for rare exceptions like Die Hard 2 or The Dark Knight).

But, as best as it can, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice stays true to the wonderful weirdness of Beetlejuice (even if that wonderful weirdness is a little too manicured now). Alas, there’s no denying that the scrappy, rough-hewn nature of the original is something that can never be recreated in the present landscape…regardless of Ryder keeping the exact same coif as Lydia when she was sixteen (in a maneuver that smacks of Briony Tallis’ never-changing hairstyle in 2007’s Atonement).